Red Dress
by city skies
Summary: AU. It's the night of the celibacy ball, and Quinn Fabray is ready to celebrate her faith with her fellow church goers. However when new girl Santana Lopez crashes, Quinn has to choose between her beliefs and the devil in a red dress.
1. Chapter 1

She notices her straight away, one, because the only dresses allowed inside _this_ hall were ones past the knee, and her one was a little north of what was required, and two, her ridiculously cocky smirk that she wore like a medal made her stand out completely. Quinn Fabray was used to humble and shy girls inside these walls, but this one was not like the others.

"Do you know her?" Quinn hears her mother whisper behind her.

Eyes darting from the stranger to her mother, she shakes her head. "No, of course not."

Judy Fabray shakes her head furiously. "I don't understand why girls think it's attractive to show off what should be _hidden_. Quinnie, you know better, don't you?"

"Mm, of course."

"Look at all these people just ogling at her," she mumbles. "This is exactly why your father and I refuse to have you on that cheerleading team. That skirt is far too short for a Fabray, for a girl with class."

Holding in sigh, Quinn turns around with a soft smile. "Thank you, mum, you're right." She doesn't really mean it though, because Quinn really wanted to be on the Cheerios. However when she came home one day, excited as she'd ever been, screaming about how she was offered a place on the team, all she received was a roll of the eyes and a "Quinn Fabray, have you _seen_ those uniforms? Your father would rather sell the house and everything in it before we let you join."

The stranger has not been approached yet, rather she's gotten several glares that are supposed to imply that she needs to get out, right now and for her to not look back at all, and Quinn hates that these people are too afraid to approach someone who even looks slightly different to them. The outsider is definitely not the typical skinny white girl Quinn's so used to seeing every Sunday. She's got curves and dark skin, and she's totally exotic and new to her. The blonde narrows her eyes when she sees the function runner – a frequent visitor at Quinn's church, a one Miss Daisy Mills – who was giving the younger a female a more than obvious glare while she whispers something in her ear. The girl in the red dress smiles what is definitely a fake smile, before she flips her hair, gives Miss Daisy Mills the finger and leaves, black heels clicking on the tiles of the hall.

Judy gasps, "The nerve of that girl." Quinn side eyes her mother, yes, it was totally, _totally_, inappropriate and unnecessary for her to give that gesture, but… it was kind of interesting, and these events are always so repetitive…

But Quinn knows better than speak out against her mother, so she just nods instead.

She sometimes likes being at events like this, because the people around her are quiet and sweet, and when you're stuck at school with the loud, rude and obnoxious ones, it's nice to have a change. But sometimes (most of the time) she just wants to run free. She's a Fabray and she should know better, after all Fabray women are classy and never step a toe out of line, but the girl wants to experience things greater than what's in the four church walls she's trapped in every Sunday. She wants to get out and live: London, Paris, New York, please. Her parents already have their eye set on her husband – yes, the Fabray parents feel it is necessary to pick the man who will defile their daughter – as well as college, career ("be a teacher before you start a family, Quinn!") and wedding venue. So Quinn leaves quickly, just for a moment, and walks to the bathroom as fast as her legs will take her. It's overwhelming, the people and the stares, so getting out is a mission that needs to be completed.

Quinn enters the bathroom, resting her hands on the sink as she stares into the mirror. She knows she's pretty and that she catches eyes, but she catches them for the wrong reason: she's the sweet, innocent, wide eyed little girl, which was fine she was four, but not now, not when she's had the good label stuck to her since birth. She washes her hands, careful to avoid wetting her dress, when she hears that familiar sound of heels on tiles once again. A cubicle door opens and oh my gosh, she's here, in the bathroom, a meter away from Quinn and its genuinely scary. The stranger washes her hands, and Quinn really tries not to look at her, but she can't help it and crap, she notices straight away.

"Yes?" The darker girl asks, raising one neat eyebrow, and there's a certain tone in her voice that's intimidating.

Quickly shaking her head, Quinn speaks. "Nothing, nothing."

"You were staring at me," she replies, turning the tap off.

"I wasn't."

"I'm not into girl on girl action, princess of the Celibacy ball, so don't bother," she says with a smirk.

Quinn tries not to pout. "I wasn't…" But she has nothing else to say.

But she cuts Quinn off. "Never mind, can you get me some food?"

"… Excuse me?"

Groaning, the stranger rolls her yes. "I only snuck into this thing for a free feed. You think I want to celebrate the Lord and Jesus and whoever else in the _Bible_?" She must sense that Quinn is a little offended so she sighs, looking down at the sink before letting her murky eyes meet the lighter ones. "My parents were fighting, okay? And as soon as one word leaves their mouths that indicate World War Three, I leave. I didn't get to eat. I walked and found this place and saw the sign outside and I have no money, so… Get me some grub, girl."

"Like, in here? You're gonna eat in the bathroom?" Quinn whispers.

"Well where else can I go?" The brunette asks. "You think your little God Squad will let me eat a three course meal out there with them? No."

"Maybe if you dressed a little more appropriately," Quinn mutters.

"Don't mock my dress, princess; have you taken a look at yours?" She snaps back. There's a silence between the two, Quinn looking down at her dress while the other female stares at the figure before her. "Look, I'm sorry. I get cranky when I'm hungry. Could you just… get me a bread roll or something?"

Looking back up to meet her face, Quinn sort of feels bad. She knows what its like to have parents fight, and while she's never left the house hungry while doing so, she understands how it hurts to hear your parents throw insults at one another. "Wait here," she sighs, "I'll get what I can. Hide in a cubicle in case someone comes in." With one last look at the girl, Quinn pushes the door open and makes a straight line towards the catering table where she grabs a paper plate. Putting what she can on it before it overflows, Quinn grabs a can of soft drink and a few napkins before turning around to get to her destination.

"Quinn, are you eating all of that?"

The tall blonde turns around to see her dad. "Daddy," she smiles. "I'm hungry, I haven't had lunch."

"Your mother won't approve, darling," he smiles. Not a dad to daughter smile, its one of those familiar I'm better than you 'cause I'm your dad and you're my daughter smile.

"She knows I haven't eaten since breakfast," Quinn lies, "you don't want me starve, do you?"

Her dad rolls her eyes despite the silly situation. "Go, go eat."

And with that, Quinn goes back to meet the girl in the bathroom.

"Well shit, I was expecting a biscuit or two, not the whole McDonalds menu," is the first thing she hears when she goes back inside.

Quinn shrugs. "I figured you were hungry and needed more than a slice of bread. Hope its okay."

The girl looks up. "… Thanks. I'm Santana," she says with a change of tone. It's got the potential to from code green to sarcastic bitch in a second, but it's calm and soft, and the recognition sounded genuine.

"Quinn."

"So… do you go to these things a lot?" Santana asks, holding the paper plate with one hand while attempting to dip a bread roll into a small packet of whipped butter. "You seem like the type."

Rolling her eyes, she nods. "Why does everyone say that?"

"What?"

"That I seem like the type. I mean… I can be bad," Quinn says not so confidently.

It's then Santana chokes on the bread. "Oh, you were being serious," she says after calming down and seeing the look on Quinn's face. "Totally, I believe you."

"No, you don't," Quinn retorts. "Am I seriously _that_ predictable? You don't even know me and you already know that these sorts of things are a usual Friday for me."

The dark haired girl shrugs. "Whatever, doesn't mean you have to be a sweet little angel all the type. Go out, party, lose your virginity." Quinn looks up at that last part with a small glare. "Mm, sorry," Santana says, a small laugh falling from her red lips. "Don't be so serious, I was joking."

But Quinn doesn't reply for a while. "Are you new here?"

"Fresh from Texas," Santana says. "We live a few blocks away, near some restaurant dedicated to breadsticks or something."

"That's near McKinley," Quinn perks up. "Are you going there?"

Santana nods. "Senior year, baby," she says sarcastically, eating her fries. "Your last year too?"

She nods before she realizes how long she's been in the bathroom. "Yeah, but I've gotta go. You need to leave too. If someone else comes in here they'll destroy you-"

"I'm not sacred of your priest-"

"You're trespassing, technically," Quinn keeps going. "So you could get into trouble. Eat your food and leave out the window, okay?"

Santana downs the last bits of liquid before nodding. "Hang out with me on Monday."

"At school?"

"Duh," Santana rolls her eyes. "I'm new and you're hot so your probably have a bunch of friends," she says, opening the window and pushing her body up until she's close enough to get out. "I've never been the new girl, so you gotta show me the ropes, okay princess? Be nice to me."

"Um… okay," Quinn says as Santana jumps out the window, feeling like she didn't really have a choice.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are too sweet! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this and you're all sweethearts for letting me know! Sorry for taking so long to get this up, but I've been busy with uni. Who else is sad this season is almost over? Aaarrgh I'm not ready to say goodbye. **

"Princess, there you are!"

Quinn recognises that voice immediately and turns around in the hall which is slowly starting to fill up with more students as the minutes pass. Santana walks towards her with a not so appropriate for school outfit and a small smirk on her face. "Hi," Quinn smiles when they're face to face.

"Hey. Don't you look cute?" Santana grins, eyes scanning Quinn's body, "Nice bobby socks."

"This is shorter than the dress from the ball…" She rolls her eyes at the tight blue dress.

"I know," she laughs. "How hot do I look? Ooh, you ready to show me the ropes?" Santana asks.

Shrugging, Quinn nods her head, gesturing for them both to walk and Santana follows, her heels clicking. "I guess, not much to see though. Where should we start?"

"Top of the pyramid, of course," the Latina smiles, "it's your home after all. May as well check out the competition."

Stopping by some lockers, Quinn shakes her head, her softly curled hair tossing a little. "I'm not... at the top of anything, Santana," she admits. "If anything I'm at the bottom, _that's _where I live."

"But you're, y'know, the most cliché thing to ever be born. You're telling me the skinny blonde isn't the head bitch?"

"Should I be offended by that?" Quinn asks, eyebrow rising, before she holds her hand up to stop Santana from talking. "Never mind. I was before, and I still sort of am... I mean, if I wanted to be, I totally could. I just hang out with people who aren't really considered... anything."

Now Santana raises an eyebrow. "So basically you're a loser?"

"No," Quinn snaps, "I mean yes. I mean, I dunno."

"You don't _know_?" The brunette laughs. "Quinn, no offence, but the dumb blonde thing isn't cute."

She narrows her eyes. "I'm not a dumb blonde, thank you very much. I mean that... this school is crazy. If I sat with the right people at lunch then I could walk in her everyday with worrying about verbal abuse."

"Then sit with the right people. Not that hard," Santana shrugs.

Quinn nods. "I could, but those people aren't my real friends. Never have been, never will. I never felt part of something with them?"

"That's deep, princess," Santana smiles smugly, and the other girl narrows her eyes a little. "Who do you sit with then? The special ed kids?"

"I'm in glee club, I hang out with them. Even though they're number one to get bullied."

The two girls begin a slow walk again. "You sing? Isn't that kinda cool? What's up with the kids here?"

"Trust me, you don't wanna know. You step one toe out line and you'll have a slushie in your face quicker than you can fall to the bottom and become completely unknown," Quinn instructs. "Come on, I'll show you your locker and then I'll take you to glee."

Santana nods slowly, however here eyes show a confused, glazed over look. "Slushie?"

Quinn doesn't fail to notice how uncomfortable Santana looks. She looks out of place and she's fidgeting, standing by the piano quietly. She had introduced the new girl to everyone and she had received mostly good comments (excluding Rachel Berry, who had made a snarky comment about no one new getting solos and Santana simply gave her a dirty look.) "You can leave if you want," Quinn whispers. "Would you relax?"

"What? I'm totally cool. This is just a little overwhelming," Santana replies.

"Don't worry, we're all nice."

"Not that creepy little elf girl," Santana side eyes Rachel who was discussing something with Mr. Schuster, "what am I, the she Devil?"

Laughing, Quinn nods. "Rachel is a little... annoying, and abrasive, but you'll get used to her."

"Used to her? You want me to join this thing?"

"Can you sing?" Quinn questions.

Santana looks offended. "Um, I'm the best. Give me a microphone and someone to play _My Heart Will Go On_ on piano and you'll be weeping. But this is kind of... you know, weird."

Quinn shakes her head. "It's fun, trust me. I was like that at first, and this is the reason why I'm not, as you call it, head bitch anymore-"

"Then I'm not joining," Santana says, her hands up as if to signal her exit. "This is my senior year. Sing all you like, but I wanna remember my final year being full of parties and fun and boys with muscles on their muscles. Not singing with that kid whose eyebrows are bigger than his face."

"_Blaine_," Quinn corrects, "and that's what you want? I'm not gonna stop you, but come on, that's such a typical high school ending."

Letting out a loud sigh, Santana speaks. "Then what should it be? Should we remake the _Breakfast Club_? Have some... fulfilling year where we all come together in the end and share our secrets and pain and whatever?"

"Why not?" Quinn shrugs. "Glee is fun, c'mon."

"Ugh, I'm outta here," Santana rolls her eyes. "I'll see you in English, princess," Santana gives her a sympathetic smile, and Quinn feels a little disappointed. She knew what it was like being at the top, being that girl, and it sucks, because she really thought Santana was more than that. Quinn lets her go, though, because she knows that Santana and herself aren't over just yet. She likes the brunette: she's fun and different and exactly what she needs, the whole other side that Quinn knows she has but is way too afraid to acknowledge. Santana was right when she said her last year should be fun, but Quinn knows she's right too; it needs to be more than that. She knows she has college and exams and her parents to worry about, but right now the new girl is so much more appealing…

Quinn Fabray smirks for the first time in a long time. Yes, she would get those crazy, out there, drunker than a dog weekends she longs for, and Santana Lopez would be the reason for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm sorry for leaving for such a long time again, but aah, such lovely reviews! Thanks so much for the gorgeous messages and all the people who have favourited/alerted this story. You're all so wonderful, thank you!**

"Okay, can you please tell me why our English teacher is like… giving us the _evil_ eye," Santana mutters, fingers rubbing her temple and elbow resting on the desk in front of her.

Quinn turns around from the conversation the two girls were having and sees that yes, Santana's right, their English teacher is indeed staring at them with narrowed eyes. "I guess he's just used to me sitting at the front and actually paying attention," Quinn replies.

"Okay, are you telling me you've built up _such_ a good girl reputation that the minute you sit in the back of a classroom you're getting interrogated?" Santana's voice becoming slightly louder, her eyebrows rising in disbelief.

The blonde gives a small shrug. "I suppose so. Its high school, people are always gonna have these pre conceived ideas about someone. Who cares what they think?"

Santana's eyes go dark, "you're not gonna give me another speech again, are you? You gushed enough about glee earlier."

Shaking her head with a small laugh, Quinn replies. "Sorry about that. We've just been through a lot together, you know? And we all try to be so supportive with what we do and who we are, we're like a family. It's gonna be hard to say goodbye to them this year. I don't wanna let them go, I love them," she finished.

"Okay, relax, you have plenty of time to spend with them," Sanatan rolls her eyes. "You don't, however, have plenty of time to be young and free."

"Are _you_ gonna give me a speech now?" Quinn smirks. "About how I should realise that we're only young once and that I should live my life to the fullest? Because I'm not _that_ type of girl."

Santana playfully slaps her arm. "Please, _every_ girl is that type of girl. You just need another girl to bring it out. What are you doing this Friday?"

Quinn bites her lip, thinking about whether or not her parents had already made plans for her. "Nothing yet," she confirms, "why?"

"You know that super muscly guy on the football team? Jake something…" She tries to remember. "He invited me to a party when I left your creepy little glee club."

Leaning forward in her chair, Quinn reaches out and grabs her hand in shock. She's both surprised and jealous that Santana's already managed to snag the attention of a popular boy. Jake was known to flirt with all the pretty girls to get into their pants, and some point he tried it on with her a few times, but never again since last Summer. She's annoyed but she hides it, trying to force a look of surprise rather than bitterness. "Wait, this is your first day and you've already got an _invite_."

Shrugging, Santana packs her books away when they hear the bell ring, announcing the end of their lesson. "Not just _an_ invite, two invites. I asked if I could bring a friend along, you know, playing the coy little girl act that's scared of big parties to lure him in. You're coming."

Quinn stacks her text books on top of another before grabbing them and pressing them to her chest, "I am? What if he doesn't want me there?"

"Please, why won't he? Just wear a hot dress and some heels and he'll sad be that he didn't invite you himself in the first place," Santana smirks, and Quinn feels a sense of both resentment and assurance form Santana. She's proud and gorgeous and fierce, and Santana knows it. Quinn, however, has had doubts about her image – whether people liked her for the right reasons, whether they even liked her at all. So meeting Santana was making her question several things, and it almost felt like she had competition now.

"Thanks? I guess. If by dress you mean-"

"Ugh, it's party," Santana interrupts. "You can't wear your best Sunday school dress, darling. They'll kick you out the door. Come on, let's go see Jake. He said he could get the alcohol, he's gotta get my favourite," Santana says, but it's more like an order and Quinn's feeling… intimidated. She nods, allowing Santana to grip her hand and oull her forward through the crowded hallway until they spot the red and white varsity jackets sticking out of the mob of people. "Jake," she smiles slyly, letting go of Quinn's hand and placing it on his shoulder, rubbing up and down.

She's starting to have doubts now. Quinn wanted the popularity and the wild nights just a few hours ago… but standing here, a bunch of jocks surrounding her, all eyeing Santana up and down and thinking about doing God knows what to her is giving her nerves all over.

"This Quinn, by the way. Don't be rude, princess, come say hello," Santana turns her head to face her, and Quinn looks at the boys, all of them looking at her but not with the same glazed over stare they were giving Santana. She's a little girl compared to the Latina, a small child with her books pressed against her, holding onto them tightly in worry. A little girl with a cross on her neck and a dress past her knees – Santana is a woman, with curves and sex appeal and everything Quinn didn't have.

Clearing her throat, Quinn gives them a small wave. "Hi," she offers a friendly smile. Jake and the other boys nod at her, giving her some form of acknowledgement , and it feels really good. It feels good to have that sort of attention from the opposite sex, even if it only lasted for a second. She lets the feeling wash over: the sense of both independence and she's sort of border lining on racy, isn't she? Maybe if she drops the cardigan…

"Quinn's coming on Friday, aren't you, Q?" Santana brings her back to reality, her fingers snapping in front of her face. "She's a bit shy…"

"Um, yeah. I'll be there," Quinn tries to sound enthusiastic but it comes across as forced – though the boys probably don't notice, but Santana seems to, because she's giving her a small glare from the corner of her eyes.

"She's my ride, so she has no choice. Anyway, boys, have fun at practice this afternoon, you might see me at the sidelines one game," she winks, and all the males around her seems to falter, their eyes once again wandering up and down her body and she walks away just like that, clasping Quinn's hand once again and sauntering away.

"How do you do that?" Quinn whispers, staring at Santana with wide eyes. She hates that she sounds like a child at their knees to someone older, but Santana seems to have a whole load of wisdom that's Quinn never heard of. "How do you make them so… _weak_?"

"Are you kidding?" Santana laughs. "They're _boys_, it's easy. They fall for anything with a nice pair of legs. Speaking of," her tone suddenly changes, and it goes from friendly to intimidating when they stop at her locker and she puts her books away. "What was up with you zoning out like that? You wanna make boys weak, don't you? You might have been pulling that whole holier than thou thing back then, but it didn't work," Santana says, assessing Quinn's actions from earlier.

"Did you just, like, analyse everything that just happened?" Quinn raises an eyebrow.

"Didn't have to," she shrugs, pushing bits and pieces aside in her locker and grabbing her lip gloss, opening the small tube and applying a small coat to her lips. "It was obvious as hell. Don't you know how to flirt? You better learn by Friday," she smacks her lips together loudly, confidence just _radiating_ from her. People must have already been intimidated by this girl and she's hardly left a mark at McKinley. She's fresh here but she's got people wrapped her little finger…

Quinn's not quite sure she's one of them or not.

Santana scoffs. That's it. That's the only noise she makes when Quinn comes over that Friday afternoon, both girls agreeing to get ready together, and lays out a few dresses she can't choose between to wear to the party. After a moment Quinn finally speaks up, pushing her nerves aside. "Are they… are they ugly or something?" Quinn whispers, looking down at the three dresses sitting on Santana's bed, then back at the dark haired girl.

"Um," Santana finally speaks. "I wouldn't say ugly. I mean I'd wear them once I hit thirty and had kids and was going to the mall to get groceries," she shakes her head. "You can't go like that. Hang on a sec, I'll find you a dress," she advises, moving to the other side of the room to go through her closet. Quinn sits on the bed, embarrassment washing over her as she realises this just might not be the night she'd been hoping for. "Red will look great on you," Santana says, walking over from the closet, hand stretching out, dress in hand.

Quinn grabs it and goes to the mirror, pressing it against her chest. "Hang on," she realises. "You wore this dress at the ball, didn't you?" She asks, meeting Santana's eyes in the mirror.

"I sure did," she smiles, leaning in close to Quinn's neck. "That hair clip makes you look like elf girl from glee. Take it out," Santana instructs, but before Quinn has a chance to brush her hair, Santana has her fingers on the clip, gently pulling it out and placing it on the dressing table. "Much better," she whispers, running her hands through a few strands of the blonde hair, pulling down the once clipped hair in an effort to make it straight. "You wanna look sexy, don't you? That work wasn't working. You look too… innocent," she continues.

She can't help blushing when Quinn feels the other girl's hot breath on her neck. "Um… thanks, Santana."

"My advice is always free, princess," she murmurs. "What's with the rosy cheeks?"

Immediately spinning around, Quinn shakes he head with a nervous laugh. "It's hot in here. I mean… it was hot outside. In my car. I didn't have the air conditioner on," Quin spurts out.

Santana doesn't look convinced at all, and it seems she's hiding a small smirk when she turns away. "Mhm," she says and walks away from the mirror. "Now put your dress on. Pick some heels from my closet. We look like we're the same size. We're gonna be late."


End file.
